Speechless

I already had my doctor chosen before I even got pregnant.  Obviously, I wasn't even using the same group or hospital system that I used before.  As soon as my doctor heard that I was pregnant, she gave me a call and got me in sooner than the 8+wks that they now like you to wait before your first appointment.  I brought my husband with me for support, just in case I was given bad news.  

Well, she decided to do an early ultrasound and this was the first one that I had since I lost Areila.  I seriously felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest as we waited for her to enter the room.  When she began the ultrasound, she paused and turned the screen to herself.  My heart sunk, and I gave my husband the look of: here we go again.  I just knew it was an ectopic pregnancy...or a molar pregnancy...or worse...a tumor.  She turned the screen back to face us and announced, "here THEY are".  Sure enough, there were two itty bitty beans on the screen with tiny flickering heartbeats.  My first second of digesting the news was shock and the following seconds were terror.  I wish I felt joy but I didn't.  I just couldn't be joyful at that moment because I knew too fucking much.  I've been tainted with the reality that babies die...  So many things can go wrong and I've come to know of many eternally devastated mothers whose dreams were broken because they've lost a child...and even worse....more than one child.  I am one of them!  I know that more often than people can ever imagine, one twin does not make it.  So, there I was with an absolutely surprised, and elated husband confirming what he saw on the screen with  the question..."wait they are twins?"  As soon as my doctor saw the tears coming down my face, she assured me that everything would be fine and asked me to get dressed and meet her in her office.  

While in her office, my little spunky 4'11 doctor began pulling paperwork and talking a mile a minute about her plan for me.  She chuckled and told me, "well, there's no dispute about how early you'll deliver" because when I met her BEFORE I got pregnant, the only thing we disputed was how early I'd deliver.  I just didn't want to get to 37weeks because that was when Areila died.  Anyway, she walked through her plan for the next 7 months, risks, etc.... but all I could do was cry thinking about the fact that I carry ALL of the risk factors for stillbirth.  I'm NOW advanced maternal age (OLD), black,  had a previous full term loss, carrying twins....and overweight.  FUCK.  Oh...and don't forget my heart issues!  A twin pregnancy puts a lot of strain on the heart.  FUCK!!  Well, from what I remember, my doctor did have a good plan with frequent ultrasounds, lots of bloodwork, frequent visits, and lots of monitoring.  Gosh, I wish I had her confidence and optimism.  

When we left the doctors office, all I could do was stare at the little ultrasound picture of the two tiny beans.  Twins don't run in my family...in fact, there are NO twins on either side of my family....the Universe was really trying to teach my soul some lessons.  I planned to wait as long as possible to tell my close family and friends but after the initial shock and terror, I sent them a picture of my ultrasound. Of course, no one picked up that there were TWO babies....why would they?  Who loses a baby days before her expected birth and then gets pregnant with twins?

With that being said, I began feeling guilty....  How did I get pregnant on the first try again?  And how did I get pregnant with twins?  I've got friends who are depleting their savings and putting themselves through month after month of drugs, disappointment and heartache, trying to have the one treasure that most people, and before Areila, even I,  somewhat took for granted....children.  There I was, a mother of 5 and 2 out of 5 was more than what some of my friends had.

I went for it...

I'm finally sitting down to put my the many overwhelming and breath-taking thoughts of the last 8 or so months into this blog.  I've made many, many attempts to sit down and actually channel my thoughts but couldn't...can't exactly say why...but I just couldn't.

I remember clearly, the day after I gave birth to Areila, one of the postpartum nurses totally breaking down after wheeling my beautiful, yet lifeless baby to my room.  She shared with me that she had 3 girls and how absolutely beautiful my Areila was.  Well, she went on to ask me if she'd see me back in labor and delivery in a couple years.  I was so damn insulted....how could this bitch even think to ask me such a question?  After carrying a baby for 9 months, after the suffering of pregnancy, after my marriage was almost destroyed, and then having to do the most humbling thing a person could do---labor and deliver a dead baby and she was asking me about having another.  I was so angry after that question!!!  Life...god...the universe was so damn cruel to me! 

Well, it took about 2 weeks after Areila's death and birth that I decided, I had to try again.  I couldn't let this heartache and devastation be the leading force for the rest of my life.  My husband thought that I was going through a phase and wanting to replace our precious child.  I explained to him that there was no replacing our Areila.  After experiencing what I have...how could I possibly replace her?  Just impossible!  Well, my husband was not on-board and after some therapy and (shamefully on my part), an ultimatum, he reluctantly agreed to go for it in time.  He was afraid that his age had something to do with Areila's death....doctors and I assured him that HIS age wasn't the case.  I knew well enough to know that I needed time to grieve and wasn't rushing to get pregnant again.  I needed to be physically healthy and emotionally at a place where I could handle 9 long months of a pregnancy after such a loss.

Well, after a second procedure to fix my irregular heartbeat, it seemed to be a success.  So, when he returned from Florida, visiting his mother....we decided it was time.  I went for it. Well, it was more of my decision and my husband being happy to have a week of screwing.  I would say about a week later, I began feeling and then ignoring my signs of pregnancy.  I was ready but then again, I wasn't ready.  Christmas came and went and my period never came.  I woke up the morning after my period never came, went to yoga and then told myself it was time to test.  So after yoga, I went to the store, got a test, came home to pee on a stick and the plus sign appeared.  I couldn't believe it....I don't know why but I figured, I'd have issues getting pregnant even though I pretty much got pregnant every time on the first try.  It just seemed too easy and almost made me angry.  I went a week without telling my husband....  I was hopeful yet TERRIFIED!  I knew it would be a long road.  I was still crying everyday, thinking about my precious Areila and decided, I gave her enough time and that I needed to focus on the baby that I was carrying.  Eckhart Tolle's book, "The Power of Now" became my "bible".  It helped me focus on the pregnancy and every time, my mind would wander and I'd think of the horrible things that could happen in the future, I brought myself back and my inner voice would constantly tell me, "right now, the baby is fine and so are you."  

Well, this worked for the first trimester....

A new year....

Well, I made it through the holidays. I stayed inside, avoided family gatherings and fought with all my being to not melt at the feet of a family friend when she asked asked me how I was doing and why I wasn't joining the rest of my family for their holiday festivities.

I did manage to keep myself very busy. I did A LOT!  I made over 35 pair of pajamas in December.  Some were family and friend's gifts and others were orders.  So, to add to the list....I did a lot of sewing.  I found that I'm a great multi-tasker....crying and sewing!

(My kitchen became my sewing room while my husband was out of town)

I thought very hard about ways to include Areila during the holidays.  Well, I spent quite a bit of time decorating her tree and wreath for the door.  Complete with lavender colored butterflies and ornaments.  I asked that my family contribute an ornament for her tree.

I took it even further with making ornaments with the names of all the babies whose lives ended too soon for all of my loss friends. 

 Anything to keep myself busy!

Here are some of my other projects....

 

My birthday is a couple weeks into the new year and I wanted absolutely no parts of it. I was not about any kind of celebrating and not having my entire family with me to celebrate was a knife in my back. Every facebook birthday greeting, text, and phone call that came in was like that knife was slowly being turned. We baby loss mamas can be pretty damn wacky and irrational but it's OUR reality.